Viola's POV
The low thrum of electronic bass vibrates throughout the darkened club, its energy seeping into my bones as I weave between tables, balancing a tray of drinks.
The air is heavy with the scent of alcohol and perfume, and the dim lighting paints flattering shadows over everything.
It's just another night at work, or so I think.
I glance at the table in the corner near the air conditioning unit.
That's where he sits quietly.
Somehow, he looks... different from any other man I've seen so far in my life.
I had seen him enter earlier, tall and commanding, with an air of authority that makes people around him shift uneasily and look away after a quick glance in his direction.
I don't think much of it at first.
After all, there are plenty of customers like him who come into the club:successful and well-dressed, but this guy is truly distinct, quite unlike anyone else.
The way he carries himself, the way he notices those around him without being noticed... He stands out just by sitting silently.
Anyone would think he owns the bar despite trying not to be noticed.
He is soon joined by a beautiful woman, coiffed to an inch of her life.
However, her body language is very strange.
She leans in too close, invading his personal space, eyes twinkling with more than just business.
Meanwhile, the handsome man seems displeased with her actions and isn't hesitant to show it.
As I move closer to their table to take another order, I overhear snippets of their conversation since I can't help but listen.
She flirts with him,outright flirting,and her male companion reacts negatively to her very obvious approaches. God. It looks like she can't even catch a hint with how hard she's hitting on him.
From what I can hear of their conversation, her name is Jessica, I think.
Hmmm.
How fitting.
She is all coy smiles and fluttering long fake lashes.
I can't see his face clearly, but judging from the clear tension in his body, it's obvious he isn't enjoying his sultry companion's attention.
"Come on, Garrett. You can't seriously expect me to believe you're taken. Someone like you... really?" Jessica's voice is sugar-coated but sharp enough to cut through the music.
"I told you," he says, his voice steady but edged, "I have a girlfriend. I'm not available."
The disbelief in her laugh is palpable. "A girlfriend? Please, that's the oldest excuse in the book. I don't see anyone here with you, Garrett."
I cringe at her persistence.
She leans forward, her hand brushing against his arm in a way that makes me uncomfortable just from watching.
Garrett, as she calls him, subtly shifts away, trying to maintain distance without causing a scene. "Jessica, don't," he warns, his tone sharper now, but she is undeterred.
"You know, I could make you forget about her," she whispers, her eyes glinting with something predatory as she leans in for what looks like an attempt to steal a kiss.
Garrett turns his face at that second, causing her lips to miss their mark. He straightens, his voice firm. "If you keep this up, I'm leaving."
She frowns, clearly not used to being rejected, and excuses herself, muttering something about needing to freshen up in the ladies' room.
As soon as she is gone, Garrett's posture relaxes, but only slightly. I figure this is my chance. I have a job to do, after all.
"Can I get you another drink?" I ask, stepping forward and trying to keep my tone neutral.
His gaze flicks up to mine, and for the first time, I see his face clearly.
He has sharp, intelligent blue eyes, the kind that seem to see right through you, and a jawline that could've been sculpted from stone.
He is ridiculously attractive.
But there's something else there too, something exhausted, like he carries a weight that no one else can see.
"Actually," he begins, pausing as if contemplating something. "I need a favor."
I blink, momentarily thrown off. "A favor?" I parrot back at him.
"Yeah," he says, lowering his voice. "That woman, Jessica, she's not taking no for an answer. I told her I have a girlfriend, but she doesn't believe me. She's relentless, and I just... I need her to leave me alone."
I stare at him, unsure of where this is going. "Okay...?" I say slowly, wondering where this is all going.
"I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend."
My heart does a funny flip, like it has missed a step. Is he serious? I look around, half-expecting this to be some kind of prank.
"Wait, what?"
"I know it sounds crazy, but I just need her to see I'm not available. It'll be quick, I promise. You just sit with me for a bit, act like we're together, and that's it." I bite my lip, considering it.
I'm not usually one to get involved in other people's problems, but the desperation in his eyes tells me he's serious.
And there's something in his voice, something genuine, that makes me want to help.
It's not like he's asking for much... right? Besides, I don't have any reason to say no.
"Alright," I sigh, setting down my tray. "I'll do it."
"Thank you," he says, his expression softening with relief. "You have no idea how much this helps."
As I settle into the chair across from Garrett, I feel the weight of the situation sink in.
This isn't just a casual favor.
I'm about to step into a role I have no business playing.
The noise of the club buzzes around us, but the intensity of the moment makes everything feel sharper, more focused.
Garrett leans back in his chair, his gaze scanning the crowd as if making sure Jessica is still occupied in the ladies' room.
Then he turns back to me, his expression a little less tense now that
we have a plan.
"You should probably take off your apron," he says, his voice low enough to drown out the music.